Revelation is not a unilateral action of God performed on man. Revelation necessarily presupposes man’s cooperation; it makes an appeal not to passivity, but to an active effort of knowing and of assimilation. In what he creates as a co-worker with God, created in the image of God, man is esteemed only if he conveys and fulfills the divine plan.
Leonid Ouspensky, Theology of the Icon, Vol 2., p. 502
Thanks to the miraculous efforts of St Constantine, Christianity underwent a significant change in the fourth century. What came with this change was the triumphant spread of the Gospel of Jesus Christ in every way possible throughout the known world. Along with this — and by not only necessity but also following upon Divine institution and precedent — was the spread and triumph of a very specific form of Christian art and what we now know of as Iconography within the Orthodox and Catholic churches.
Ouspensky comments on the enormity of this sudden change in Christianity, noting:
“The influx of new converts requires larger places of worship and a new kind of teaching, one that is more direct and more explicit. The symbols used in the first centuries, intended for a small number of initiates, were incomprehensible to the new converts. This is the obvious reason why large historical cycles of monumental paintings portraying the events of the Old and New Testaments appeared in churches in the fourth and fifth centuries. St Constantine built churches in Palestine on the very sites where the biblical events had occurred. It is also in this period that the dates of most of the major feasts were set, along with the iconographic schemes for them, which are still followed in the Orthodox Church today.”
Leonid Ouspensky, Theology of the Icon, Volume 1, p. 81
Interestingly enough, there are many ancient phials that have been discovered which depict all of the Feasts of the Church by the 6th and 7th centuries, and all of them showing depictions identical to the Icons of our present day for each Feast, confirming of course their antiquity.
As Christianity was given free reign to spread throughout the Empire, the Theology of the Church became more precise, well thought out and greatly expounded than ever — and, along with this, the canonization and spread of Christian artwork along with the Liturgy and prayers and feasts of the Church — all of these things went hand-in-hand, since they are all part of the same Faith and the same Sacred Tradition. Indeed, the fourth century and onward was the “golden age” of the Church theologically speaking, and especially in the East (all seven Ecumenical Synods were held in the East, e.g.). As the Theology of the ascetics and desert fathers began to spread throughout Christendom, the increase in sacred art came with it. Ouspensky notes:
“The experience of the ascetic Fathers and their writings spreads throughout the Christian world. From this time on, the theory and practice (praxis) of theology, that is, the teaching of the Church and the living experience of the ascetics, become the sources that feed sacred art, guide and inspire it. This art finds it necessary, on the one hand, to transmit truths that are formulated dogmatically, and on the other hand to communicate the living experience of these truths — the spiritual experience of the saints, the living Christianity in which dogma and life are one.” (Ibid, p. 83)
Ouspensky notes that the use of artwork or Icons within the Church was not for the sake of self-expression or the enumeration of opinions, but the preservation of the Faith. This is no different, really, than the role the various writings of Fathers, the Ecumenical Councils, or the Holy Scriptures as gathered and used by the Church in Her Liturgy. In fact, both the doctrinal writings and the doctrinal artwork of the Church underwent a significant change following the legalization of Christianity in the Byzantine Empire. Icons no more “sprang up” in the fourth century A.D. than the Scriptures or the doctrinal Truth of the Incarnation or the All-Holy Trinity “sprang up” out of nowhere in this time (or through dabbling with paganism, since many doctrinal definitions of the Church were explained through certain philosophical terminology or presuppositions having common use at the time).
“The art of the first Christians was a doctrinal and a liturgical art. It embodied a true spiritual direction, and the claim of certain scholars who maintain that sacred art was born outside the Church, or that it had no importance until the third or fourth centuries, cannot be taken seriously. Quite the opposite is true. This art reflects a general ecclesiastical guidance and a tight control over the artists’ work. Nothing was left to chance or to the whim of the artist. Everything is concentrated on the expression of the Church’s teaching. From its first steps, the Church begins to develop an artistic language which expresses the same truth as the sacred word. We shall see later that this language, just like the theological expression of the Christian teaching, will become more and more specific throughout the Church’s history, and will become a most perfect and exact instrument of teaching.”
Leonid Ouspensky, Theology of the Icon, Volume 1, pp. 79-80
The importance of the Icons (along with the Liturgy, the decisions of the Councils, the lives of the Saints and Martyrs, etc.) in a doctrinal and liturgical context within the Church is inestimable, really.
One can quickly see the difference between doctrinal fidelity and stability in an Iconoclastic church (e.g. the Reformed churches, Evangelicals, Baptists, etc.) and the Apostolic Church, where Truth is ever the same and unchanging, just as Christ Himself is (cf. Hebrews 13).
It is no wonder that one of the key components of a radical revolution is Iconoclasm, since all Icons — whether religious or cultural — are reminders of and even part of our connection with the past. Alongside this, as a result, comes the re-writing of history to suit our particular opinions, tastes, or ideas about what should have happened, maybe — but emphatically didn’t.
When it comes to the Christian past and how we got to where we are today as Christians, Western Protestants are notorious for stacking the deck against reality and presenting a new version of Christian history. This is common for Westerners in general (as conquerors and empires are enabled to tell the story, of course), but is even present among Protestants who are — by and large — Iconoclastic (and even more rigorously so than any Christians ever were in the 8th or 9th centuries, or even Muslims).
In Ouspensky’s next chapter, he deals with the origins of the Christian image, or Icon, and explains in relative detail what these images are really about.
First and foremost, Icons are all about the Incarnation of Jesus as the Son of God and Second Person of the All-Holy Trinity. “The Church declares that the icon is an outcome of the Incarnation; that it is based upon this Incarnation and therefore belongs to the very essence of Christianity, and cannot be separated from it.” (p. 36)
Unfortunately, thanks in large part to the historical ineptness of an English scholar (Gibbon) and his work The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire (an eighteenth century volume), an idea crept into popular scholarship (and eventually Western, Protestant “scholarship”) that “the first Christians had an insurmountable aversion to the use of images [...] this aversion was a consequence of their Jewish origin” (Ibid, p. 36). Gibbon goes on to make the laughable claim that the first Icons didn’t appear until well into the fourth century, and these ideas have sadly been supported by many, many people ever since. The problem here is not that such a claim flatly ignores the countless evidence to the contrary (Icons have been uncovered in archaeological digs from the first century onward, not only in catacombs and burial places for clergy and laity, but also in Jewish synagogues and early Christian “house churches”), but that this “worldview” and approach to scholarship/history is based upon unbelief. In other words, what the Church teaches probably isn’t true, so let’s find out what is. This approach to scholarship is of the Evil One, as it is based upon doubt and skepticism, and not faith — a Faith that is supposed to be grounded in the “One Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church,” precisely as the Nicene Creed says. This is, sadly and tragically, the default scholarly worldview of the Protestant West.
Continuing through Ouspensky’s first volume on Icons, we come to the ever-important topic of Symbolism within the Christian Church. Ouspensky states plainly that “Symbolism expresses indirectly, through images, that which cannot be expressed directly in material or verbal forms.” (p. 17)
Making a necessary distinction between “sign” and “symbol,” as well, Ouspensky writes:
Everyday language frequently confuses the ideas of “sign” and “symbol,” as if they were identical. In fact, there is a necessary spiritual distinction between them. A sign only portrays reality; a symbol always qualifies it in a certain way, bringing forth a superior reality. To understand a symbol is to participate in the presence; to understand a sign is to translate an indication. Let us take the example of the cross. In arithmetic, it is a sign of addition; as a road sign, it is a symbol which expresses and communicates the inexhaustible contents of Christianity.
Leonid Ouspensky, Theology of the Icon, Volume 1, p. 17
As a symbol, the Cross is a powerful example of this. Whenever it is displayed, the Truth of Christianity is immediately brought to mind for anyone that sees it, and it can be both a rather divisive and controversial symbol as a result. There is probably no other symbol that is so simple and yet so packed with meaning and authority. It calls people to devotion and worship of Jesus Christ as the Son of God; it drives away demons and the powers of the Evil One; it heals; it blesses. Symbolism is extremely important for the Christian, and we must understand this rightly if we are to in turn understand Icons as symbols.
Moving on, Ouspensky wisely notes, “In the Church, symbolism plays a very important role because the entire Church is, in a way, both material and spiritual. That which is material is directly accessible to us; that which is spiritual is indicated through symbols.” (Ibid, p. 17) And just as with Icons specifically, or even the Holy Scriptures, the symbolism found within the Church has its context within the Liturgy and effectively loses all meaning apart from it. They become nothing more than “sterile abstractions” removed from their context, just as the Scriptures do in the hands of unbelievers and those outside the Apostolic and Catholic Church, wherein the Holy Spirit dwells.
In a previous post on Ouspensky’s work, I explored rather briefly some of his thoughts on the recent developments in the Roman Church regarding images and Iconography, and how unfortunately it has become more common than otherwise to find atheists or unbelievers outside of the Church doing the “decorating” of churches. So then, what does the Orthodox Faith teach in contrast to this?
As with most things in the One True Church, the Orthodox emphasis on Icons is an emphasis of … Orthodoxy.
The Orthodox Tradition guides us to make Icons “as they were painted by the ancient and holy iconographers” (Ouspensky, Vol. 1, p. 11; cf. Hundred Chapters Council of AD 1551). However, this does not mean to merely imitate the “form” or “style” of previous Icons, but the Faith and Tradition represented and the inspiration of the Holy Spirit is intimately connected to this. An atheist could paint an exact copy of an Icon from the Byzantine world in the 8th or 9th century and still fail to actually create an Icon according to Tradition. We should not be surprised by this, either. What business do unbelievers have with the Scriptures or the Body and Blood of Christ? It is not for them, and they can neither understand nor believe what these represent to and for us as Christians. In a similar manner, an unbeliever cannot make a true Icon according to Holy Tradtion.
St Symeon of Thessalonica once said of Icons, “Use colors according to Tradition.” What a telling and beautiful statement this is! In a similar fashion, Ouspensky notes that,
“St Paul did not imitate Christ by copying His gestures and His words, but by integrating himself into His life, by letting Him live in him. Similarly, to paint icons as they were painted by the ancient iconographers does not mean to copy the ancient forms, since each historical period has its own forms. It means to follow the sacred Tradition, to live in the Tradition.” (Ibid, p. 11)
And what does it mean to “live in” this sacred Tradition? Ouspensky continues:
“But the power of Tradition is the power of the Holy Spirit and of the continuity in the spiritual experience of the Church, the power of communion with the spiritual life of all the preceding generations back to the time of the apostles. In Tradition, our experience and our understanding are the experience and understanding of the Apostle Paul, of the holy iconographers and of the entire Church; We no longer live separately, individually, but in the Body of Christ, in the same total body as all of our brothers in Christ. This is in fact the case in all areas of spiritual life, but it is particularly true in that of sacred art. The contemporary iconographer must rediscover the internal outlook of the iconographers of old and be guided by the same living inspiration. He will then find true faithfulness to Tradition, which is not repetition but a new, contemporary revelation of the internal life of the Church. Indeed, an Orthodox iconographer faithful to Tradition always speaks the language of his time, expressing himself in his own manner, following his own way.”
Leonid Ouspensky, Theology of the Icon, Volume 1, pp. 11-12
It seems that one could simply summarize any aspect of Orthodox Theology as having “orthodoxy” as a central focus, but that is almost unnecessarily redundant and obvious. Orthodoxy is all about Orthodoxy, of course. This isn’t about denominationalism, the latest scholarship, a passing fad according to the traditions of men, or the idle speculations of the wisdom of this world — it is the unchangeable, infallible, living Tradition of our Lord Jesus Christ and His Apostles, Who is Himself without change and “the same yesterday, today, and unto ages of ages.” And it is in this sense, and in this particular context, that the Church is infallible, incidentally. Therefore, when it comes to Icons and orthodox Iconography, the only “criteria” for such is Orthodoxy, inspired by the Holy Spirit. Ouspensky writes:
“One can speak of style in scientific analyses, in historical or archaeological studies, but to use this idea in the Church to characterize its art is as absurd as discussing the “style” in which the Creed or the Great Canon of St Andrew of Crete is written. It is clearly a meaningless statement. In the Church there is only one criterion: Orthodoxy. Is an image Orthodox or not? Does it correspond to the teaching of the Church or not? Style as such is never an issue in worship.”
Ibid, p. 12
For the Orthodox, Icons are not subject to the scrutiny of issues such as “aesthetics” or being “outdated” any more than the Liturgy or the Scriptures could be. The same Spirit speaks through them all, and without change in their Orthodoxy and truth. We should not subject the images of our churches to “personal taste,” either. Certainly, one can have opinions about preference or taste when it comes to artwork (even sacred images and Icons), but such opinions have no bearing on the Icons’ value “as a liturgical image” (Ibid, p. 14). The Great Doctor of the Faith, St John of Damascus, wisely warns us: “If each person could act according to his desire, little by little, the entire body of the Church would be destroyed” (Third Treatise in the Defense of Holy Icons, Ch. 41) — and this St John said during the Iconoclastic period of the 8th century while in exile in Muslim-dominated lands. We should heed his words and carefully examine all of our beliefs and actions as being lived in accordance and as part of sacred Holy Tradition, and Icons are no exception to this.
Ouspensky notes in his work that for Orthodox Christians, the Catholic Church’s liturgy is intimately connected with the presence of sacred images, or Icons. One cannot exist or have any real meaning without the other, basically. He writes:
It is absolutely impossible to imagine the smallest liturgical rite in the Orthodox Church without icons. The liturgical and sacramental life of the Church is inseparable from the image.
Leonid Ouspensky, Theology of the Icon, Volume 1, p. 8
This is the case because — for one reason, at least — our communion with God is not limited to words (or time/space, for that matter). The Truth conveyed by Icons is one and the same — and of the same authority — with the words of the Fathers or the Holy Gospels, for example. Therefore, St Basil the Great says in his homily On the 40 Martyrs, “That which the word communicates by sound, the painting shows silently by representation.”
Ouspensky continues, noting that the Icon and Liturgy of the Orthodox Faith “complete” one another:
I’ve begun to read through Leonid Ouspensky’s two volume work Theology of the Icon and it has been fantastic thus far. I’m going devote the majority of my blog posts over the next few weeks to this study, more than likely. Ouspensky was an Iconographer living in Paris until he went to be with Christ in AD 1987 (may his memory be eternal). His work is considered to be among the best of all the classic works on Icons, rivaled perhaps only by St John of Damascus and St Theodore the Studite and their various treatises in defense of the Incarnation and Christian art.
For many Christians on the “outside looking in” when it comes to the Apostolic Faith, the issue of Icons may not seem like “that big of a deal.” I know I viewed the issue as such for quite some time before I accepted the Catholic Church into my heart. In fact, for many it is cut-and-dry idolatry, so why even focus on it? However, the fact of the matter remains that the entire Catholic Church for the first 1,500 years of Her history (with few exceptions) viewed Iconography and Christian artwork in a very important light, and we should not let pagan historians or revisionist history detract us from this reality (especially if we are to have the Faith of children and believe in the Catholic Church).
Ouspensky comments on this in the Introduction to his work, writing:
